


Banded Together

by Koiame



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Angst and Humor, Drug Use, Explicit Sexual Content, Getting Together, Multi, Preventers, Rape/Non-con Elements, Violence, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-08 04:05:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3194690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Koiame/pseuds/Koiame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The former Gundam pilots, all now Preventer agents, are forced to go undercover as musicians to gain access to a massive trafficking network.  The boys... well, they're not too keen on the idea.  Can they still make this mission a success, or will it be the worst disaster in the history of the agency?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Questionable Methods

**Author's Note:**

> Preventer era fics are among my favorites. There was also a picture released way back when of the pilots as members of a band. Thus, this story was inspired. It will contain humor and angst. That's just the way I work. Hope you all enjoy it.

**Duo's POV**

We’ve done a lot of weird shit in the line of duty working for the Preventers this past year, but _this_ … oh man, does this take the cake! Couldn’t tell ya what made her think the five of us could be a good boy band, but Dr. Raznick is off the Christmas list if it has anything to do with changing her meds. 

“No.” Heero flat out rejects her plan. Mincing words? Not his style. Mincing faces, however… Well, Une’ll find out if she presses that teen heartthrob magazine any closer. “The risk of being recognized is too high and our eligibility for future undercover operations would be jeopardized.”

“Agreed.” Wufei carefully sets his pen down on the unused tablet on his lap. “The parameters for this mission are unacceptable.”

“I’m afraid my participation would make it impossible to achieve our objectives. While our identities as Gundam pilots have been kept secret, as the Winner heir…”

Trowa briefly pats Quat on the shoulder and gives him a reassuring smile. I catch myself staring and look away; hiding that uneasy feeling I get sometimes. I swallow hard and ignore my blond buddy’s troubled glance. I love the guy, but sometimes that empathy he’s got is a real pain in the ass.

Une clears her throat and proceeds to the next slide. “Changes can be made to sufficiently disguise your appearance.”

“Shit.” I shake my head at the concept drawings of us. “No way. This plan’s got ‘bad idea’ written all over it.”

Across from me, Wufei snorts; his arms folded proudly across his chest. “The expert agrees.”

“Hey Fei, I’ve got a _great idea_. Let’s blow up a sewage treatment plant while we’re still _inside_ it.”

“One word, Maxwell: fiberglass.”

I flip him off. Just thinking about the week after that mission makes me itch.

“Enough.” Heero growls.

“We can discuss alternatives.” Trowa offers helpfully. “We can infiltrate the traffickers and gather intel from within those organizations.”

'Lady Buns' shakes her head. “The criminal network is too vast. If we are to fully uncover the sex, drugs, and weapons trafficking of this industry, we will need operatives whose status can gain them access to all three at once.”

“Even if we could pull this off, we’re not gonna get that kinda access as a damn boy band!” I grab the magazine in front of Heero and wave it around. 

“If you have an alternative, Agent Maxwell…”

“Well,” all eyes on me, I swallow hard. This is the type of moment the guys keep tellin’ me I should pause for a second to think about during so I don't hang myself. “I might be able to come up with one.”

“Hm.” The director leans back in her chair and steeples her fingers like one of those cheesy movie villains plotting to take over the world. Yeah, not a comforting thought. The lady’s scary enough when she’s on our side. “You all feel the same about the plan ops submitted?”

Nods and affirmative grunts indicate our unanimous agreement. I try not to feel too smug about it. A bad plan’s a bad plan, even if it is nice having the guys back me up on this. Give us a week and a few dozen cups of coffee, and I’m sure we can come up with something better.

“Alright. Then I expect to be briefed Monday morning at 0800 on the specifications of your plan.”

“Two days?!”

“We have a tight window, Maxwell. If I do not find your strategy acceptable, we will proceed with the one set forth by ops, in which case you will all need special training and assessment to prepare for your roles.” The darkly amused glint in her eyes is enough to curl my hair.

Damn it.

I stand up and stretch. “Guess I better get to it then.”

The others exchange glances and nods before following suit.

“You are all dismissed until Monday. Begin wrapping up the cases you are currently working on, or prepare to hand those still in progress over to other agents for follow up.” She sighs. “Good luck, Maxwell. I’ll be eager to see what you come up with.”

“Yeah. Me, too.” I wave over my shoulder as I leave. As soon as we're clear of her office, I turn around and face the others. "So... Chinese or Italian?"

"Indian?" Quatre smiles.

"There's a place on 7th."

Heero frowns. "Takeout?"

"Even better." I grin. "They deliver." 

He nods.

"Vindaloo curry, hot." Wufei instructs. "I will secure Conference Room D for our use." 

"And I'll order." Quat offers, pulling out his cell phone, and searches for the number.

I point out the place from the list of nearby restaurants. Getting payback on the guys in ops can wait until we figure out how the hell we're gonna get outta this mess. But first, yellow curry and some garlic naan will do us a world of good. 

Heero looks at me sharply as I rattle off our usual orders. "Oh right, and some of that sweet rice pudding stuff too, Quat."

He smiles and looks between the two of us. Gives me that uncomfortable feeling again and I can't help but take a step away from all of them.

"I'll... go see if Chang needs any help." My heart is achingly fast, but I keep a grin screwed tightly on my face. Time to get outta here. I saunter away, round a corner, and then bolt for it.

Finding the nearest supply room, I duck in and lock it. The darkness doesn't make it any better, but the light will only attract attention. Okay Maxwell, calm down. Calm down, damn it! Panic has me gripped by the throat. My heart is fluttering in my chest. Quat's gotta know how I'm feelin'. He's too close.

Breathe in through the nose... hold it... and out through the mouth. Simple. My fingers thread through my bangs as the palms hold up my head. I don't have to feel this way.

Ten minutes. That's all I'll let myself have. Then I gotta go out there with my shit together and try not to think about _this_.

I mentioned Dr. Raznick. The prescription bottle top pops off in my hand with a press and a twist. Just one of these little bastards, and I'll pass for functional, even if it's just for a little while.

Well... "Cheers."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay. I've been really busy and my computer died. I hope you enjoy this chapter anyway. Thank you for reading!

“ _Alright!_ ” I burst into Conference Room D with a big, shit eatting grin on my face, "looks like it's curry time!" Took twenty for the meds to kick in, but I'm back baby! Baby? Shit. “Ya guys had better saved me some!” My four best buds relax a little, realizing it’s just little ole me. I laugh and plunk down into the closest chair. 

“Looks good…” Rummaging through the bags, my mouth's set to autopilot. “Did this just get dropped off? You guys coulda started without me.” I slide Tro’s order towards him. How’d I know it’s his? Well, he always gets the curry fish! My throat feels real tight and my voice keeps cracking like I'm goin' through puberty again. Oh man. How am I gonna get through the meeting?

“Duo...” Quat pauses and considers his words a sec. “Are you-”

“Yep.” I’m a ray of fuckin’ sunshine. The train is moving. Things and things to do. 

“But-”

“Nope.”

“Maxwell, are you high?!” Wufei growls at me and I stop. Everything stops. I feel the weight of seven eyes on me. H-High?

“Yeah right, Fei!” I snort and dig a piece of naan out from a foil bag. “ _You-know-who_ would string me up by my fun bits if I was on anything she doesn’t know about.”

They kick the idea around for a while, but eventually it seems to do the trick even if it takes Wu more staring off into space than the others, and I’m back to smirking as the first delicious bite ravages my mouth. 

"Oh! God, that’s good!" I practically moan. My eyes follow Yuy as he sits next to me and snags his food from the horde; chicken curry - extra hot. I choke a little. 

“Here.” Quatre hands me a water bottle. “You shouldn’t eat so fast, Duo.”

Eyes tearing and gulping down water, I give 'im the slightest nod. Yeah. Breathe, think, or eat - pick only two, kid. Chucking the empty bottle at the corner garbage can, it makes a hollow tapping sound as it bounces off the rim and lands on the floor.

"Heh. Off by a quarter rotation." I scratch the back of my head and shrug.

“Let’s begin,” Chang says as if he's got the weight of his ancestors on his shoulders. Wonder what conclusion he came to about the extra dose of Maxwell cheer. Probably thinks I’m nuts. Hope Fei didn’t get the hamsters running at full speed just to come up with that. 

But ya know… he’s probably not too far off. 

“We should start with our strengths first.”

Even though the bottle in my pocket’s stuffed with cotton, I keep still as I can to keep it from rattling. Uppers for PTSD and a depressing childhood... Go figure. 

I chew.

"Exactly." Quat nods at Tro and picks up the metaphorical talking stick while divvying out the rest of the food. “I play piano and the violin. And Trowa” he gestures “is a master of the flute.”

The hysterical giggle almost escapes as my mind wanders. Almost - that near slip is sobering. 

Maybe the suggested dose on the bottle isn't just a suggestion. 

Go figure.

“What instruments are you all familiar with? Heero?”

Ah, the glare. I stare at Yuy, noting hot blue color of his eyes. I mean, hot as in warm. Hot blue. It's-It's gotta be a shade or something.

“Duo?”

“Huh?” My head snaps forward, feelin' like the kid who stole the cookie jar. “Uh…” 

He sighs, optimism wearing thin. “Wufei?” 

“Guangu.”

“I always pictured you as a cowbell kinda guy.” And there goes glaring pilot number two, thank you very much.

“Guangu is a _drum_.”

“You don’t say.” I taunt. "Well, I call dibs on drums."

"That's-"

"Duo-"

" _Dibs_."

"Do you even play the drums?" Tro asks, eyebrows raised.

I leer at my second favorite Asian. "Nope."

"Enough." Wu slowly gets up from his chair and steps around Heero to tower over me.

"Real intimidating, Fei." 

"Can we please just-"

"Just 'cause you've already got one stick up your ass, doesn't mean you get to play drums."

"Duo!"

"Stand." He growls out through clenched jaws.

"Wufei..." Give it a rest, Quat.

"One sec." I neatly pack up my leftovers and push them away before getting to my feet. "Right." After taking a few quick steps back, I roll my shoulders. "First one to draw blood gets drums."

His eyes narrow, the anger taking a back seat for a moment to cold hard analysis. "No weapons."

"Deal." I smirk and can't help thinkin' maybe this is what I've been needing - a good fight.

 

Fifteen minutes and several well earned bruises later, the broken chair is safely hidden in Conference Room C and we finally get back to business. I admit; that was a terrible idea. I gingerly lick my busted lip and eye my half eaten curry from afar. Damn tactical error. At least some of the extra meds seem to have worked their way through my system.

"Baka." Yuy hands me an ice pack and reclaims his seat beside me.

"Yeah..."

“Drums. Flute. Violin or piano.” Quatre repeatedly tucks a stubborn stray lock of blond hair behind his ear between tallies of his fingers. “We still need a vocalist and preferably another string instrument.”

Wufei mutters under his breath somethin' about me never shutting up anyways while holding a cold soda to what will be a very nice shiner by tomorrow. Not first blood, but I'll take it.

“Sorry Quat. Never touched a musical instrument in my life and count me out for singing.” Shaking my head, I add, “probably make a good manager or roadie, though.”

"No." He bites his lip and looks the rest of us over like taking stock of tools for a job. "It will be better with five." I shiver and put the ice pack down. "Duo, why don't you learn the bass? And Heero, the guitar. We can decide on a vocalist later."

"Hn."

"Agreed." 

"Practice should start immediately." Heero glances over at me.

" _Hey!_ " Screw you, buddy! I pull my weight. 

I glare back until his attention wanders.

"We can file paperwork to requisition the instruments we will need, however that will take time." Trowa studies some documents on a tablet. "Perhaps we can start with musical theory."

"That's a great idea, Trowa!" His face fuckin' _radiates_ happiness. "I have a lot of books we can use at home. I'm sure it would be more comfortable continuing there."

"It is getting late." Glancing at the crooked wall clock, Fei sets down his can of lukewarm soda. "And at 2100 there is meeting scheduled here."

"So we're having a sleep over?" I chuckle softly and gather my stuff together.

"Duo?" As we leave, Q-man pulls me aside. "If you break any of my mother's antique furniture over Wufei's head, the chair in Conference Room C will not be the only thing in Preventer's with a broken leg."

"O-Oh. Sure Quat." He walks ahead of me, the most innocent expression on his face. "No problem."

I'm not long for this mission...

A hand claps on my shoulder and I jump out of reflex, but it holds tight.

"Heero?" Startled, our eyes lock for a moment. A small panic attack inches toward me out of nowhere.

"If he breaks your leg, I'm not carrying you." The corners of his mouth lift and he follows Wufei out the door.

I snort and quickly catch up with him. "I wouldn't be so sure about that. Previous evidence says otherwise."

"Like the time Yuy knocked you out and left you in the hands of the enemy?" Fei snipes.

Heero shoots him a cold glare.

"Then he owes me one." I announce and escape ahead to walk with the others.

At least musical theory can't be more difficult than working with these guys everyday, right? 

Right... Better not jinx yourself, Maxwell.


End file.
